Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan/Case Closed.

Pairing: KaitoxShinichi

Rating: M

Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: There were a million better ways their relationship could have started. But it didn't. Yet even though they both know they shouldn't be here, neither can bring himself to look back.

Note: This is sort of a prequel to "Whisper".


Guilty Secrets

He could remember the exact day when it had all begun.

It had been at a party being thrown by some wealthy businessman. Not only had it been the grand opening of a brand new luxury hotel, it had also been the setting of a Kaitou KID heist.

His memory of the actual incident, however, was hazy and fragmented courtesy of the stupid punch and a bowl of extra spicy pasta.

He usually stayed away from alcohol. He'd never liked anything that dulled the mind, and after three years of hiding from cold-blooded killers all named after the wretched stuff, his dislike had only intensified. Living that same three years with Mouri Kogoro and seeing first hand how stupid it made people just put the icing on the cake.

That night, however, he had been coerced into drinking the wretched stuff by a combination of unfortunate circumstances. First of all, there were only two types of beverages available at the party. The first was a wine that the host was particularly fond of. The second was a fruit punch that someone had thought it would be a grand idea to spike with yet more alcohol. Shinichi had known from the smell that it had been tampered with, so he'd made up his mind not to drink anything until he got home. No big deal. But then he'd made the mistake of picking up a bowl of pasta from the buffet table. It had been the spiciest pasta he had ever had the misfortune of eating, and it was the kind of spicy that started out deceptively tantalizing before it grew with each bite to an unbearable burn. Eyes watering as he tried and failed to soothe his burning mouth and throat with gasps of cool air, he had eventually given in and gone for a cup.

It was shortly after that that everything had started to go fuzzy.

He had woken the following morning with a splitting headache. The unfamiliar room had confused him. His state of undress had made it worse. This appeared to be a room in the hotel the party had been held in, but he honestly had no idea how he'd gotten here. It felt like he was in a bad movie—or in one of those stories that were supposed to be examples of why you shouldn't touch anything that messed with your head. Then he'd tried to get up and discovered that his head wasn't the only part of him in pain.

It had taken several minutes for the memories to surface as he lay there staring hard at the ceiling.

He vaguely remembered a lot of noise and flashing lights. That must have been the heist. He'd had enough of his senses to realize he couldn't participate though. He'd probably break his neck if he tried. Instead, he had stumbled out of the ballroom. He wasn't sure what he'd been looking for—maybe somewhere to splash water on his face or just a dark corner where no lights could aggravate his spinning head—but whatever it was, he'd never found it. What he'd found instead was a familiar shark's smirk and a gleaming monocle.

"Leaving already, Tantei-kun? This isn't like you at all."

"Tantei-kun, are you alright? You don't look so good."

He closed his eyes. So it was the thief who'd brought him to this room. He could remember the feeling of a strong arm supporting him—guiding him along the hallways. It was accompanied by a soothing murmur that was nothing at all like the thief's usual, mocking tones. It had made him feel strangely content.

But the feeling hadn't lasted.

"You should stay here and sleep it off before you hurt yourself."

He remembered clinging to the thief's lapels when he turned to go, desperately afraid of something he couldn't quite put into words.

"Please don't leave…"

He remembered thinking of Ran and the day he'd watched her walk away onto the plane that had taken her to America. He remembered thinking of the day he'd come home from school when he'd still been fourteen to the silent halls and really, truly understood that his parents weren't living there anymore. There was the day he had waved his final goodbyes to the Shounan Tantei and the day not long after that when he had met Shiratori-keiji and Kobayashi-sensei by chance and neither of them had known who he was…

Thinking back, he was more than a little surprised that KID hadn't either left or laughed.

Instead, a gloved hand had slowly, cautiously, moved to tilt Shinichi's chin up so that he was looking the thief in the eyes. Despite the blur of his thoughts, he could see those eyes clearly—a deep indigo that usually gave away nothing, but right then…

Then warm lips descended upon his own. The kiss too was careful—testing. And it was probably the alcohol's fault, but Shinichi hadn't felt at all surprised.

When he closed his eyes and leaned into it instead of pulling away, the kiss grew rapidly more heated.

The next thing he remembered was being pushed back onto the bed. The sheets felt strange against his bare skin. He had no idea when or where his clothes had gone. But that hadn't mattered. The only thing that did was that hungry mouth ravished his skin, biting and sucking in a way that he knew even in his haze would leave marks.

A hot flush crept across Shinichi's face as the events of the night before continued to pour through his mind. Jumbled as his memories were, he could still remember all too well the feel of hands on his skin, a body pressed against him, then—

He rolled over quickly and tried to smother himself in the pillow. He so did not want to be thinking about that! And he most definitely didn't want to be wishing he could remember more. What was wrong with him? Could he possibly… Did he actually like

He shoved those thoughts away as soon as they appeared. He couldn't let them finish because they would only lead to trouble.

It was much easier and safer to focus on being upset. Only he couldn't decide if he was upset at himself for acting like a fool or upset at KID for what he'd done (maybe he was just upset at them both, seeing as, in all fairness, they were both at fault. And oh god but his first time had been with the Kaitou KID! Sonoko would be jealous. Of course, she was crazy. Maybe he was too because he wasn't nearly as horrified as he knew he should be). Either way, he needed to forget about the part of him that was secretly pleased. Why it existed was something he refused to think about even as the memories of the incident and the questions it had brought continued to circle through his head in the following weeks.

But in the end his thoughts always returned to the memory of a pair of indigo eyes and the strange emotion he thought that he had seen in them. It was the one moment he remembered with crystal clarity, and he couldn't help but wonder what it was he had seen.

-0-

Kuroba Kaito still couldn't quite believe what had happened at his last heist.

He'd known for a while now that he liked Shinichi rather a lot more than he should. He looked forward to their talks and sought Shinichi out at heists even when it meant going out of his way to do so. It annoyed him every time Shinichi missed a heist, and he often found himself spending the minutes of waiting for the perfect time to execute his latest plot simply admiring his Tantei-kun and his brilliant blue eyes. More than once he'd found himself wondering if there was a way he could introduce himself to Shinichi as Kuroba Kaito, but he'd forced himself not to dwell too long on those particular thoughts. The detective was, after all, a detective. Knowing it was unwise, however, didn't stop him from wanting to pin Shinichi to the nearest wall and kiss him senseless whenever he saw him. Even so, he hadn't actually planned on acting upon the urge anytime soon for the same reasons he hadn't told Aoko back in high school when he'd still had a crush on her.

Maybe one day, when he had found Pandora and could hang up his hat and cape for good. But for now he would have to settle for their little dances under the moonlight. And if he kept closer tabs on the detective's whereabouts and activities than might be considered proper, well, he was a thief.

And this time…this time he wasn't going to just stand there and watch the person he loved walk away from him.

But everything had changed in one moment when those deep, blue eyes had looked up at him with such open longing and vulnerability that he hadn't been able to stop himself. That expression had given him hope, hinting at deeper emotions that maybe, just maybe, echoed his own.

Just a kiss, he'd thought. To see how Shinichi would respond.

Very well, as it turned out.

Suffice to say, it hadn't ended at the kiss.

He was a little chagrined at how he'd let himself get carried away, but he would be lying if he claimed to regret it. How could he? He'd gotten to live out one of his fantasies (indeed, there had been a moment when he was sure he was dreaming). If he had any regrets, it was only that it had happened while Shinichi wasn't entirely sober. It was far from an ideal beginning, but it was a beginning.

There was no turning back now.

What his next move was would depend on what mood Shinichi was in at his next heist.

The problem was, Shinichi didn't come to his next heist. Nor did he come to the one after that. By the third, Kaito was starting to get worried.

What if Shinichi never came to another heist? Now that he stopped to think about it, it was entirely possible that Shinichi had taken the whole thing the wrong way. Maybe he thought it was just a tryst—a meaningless encounter, an accident, a mistake? Worse, what if he thought Kaito had only been taking advantage of him while he couldn't think straight?

No, he wouldn't allow it! Whether or not Shinichi felt the same way he did yet, he couldn't let his detective walk away thinking that it had just been another of KID's whims. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if Shinichi started to hate him because of some related misunderstanding.

If Shinichi wouldn't come to him then Kaito would have to go to him.

-0-

When Shinichi walked into his library to the sight of the Kaitou KID sitting in one of the armchairs, he could only gape. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you, of course," the thief said lightly, setting aside the book he'd been flipping through and getting to his feet. "You haven't been coming to my heists lately, after all. And so I thought to myself, it isn't really fair to expect you to come see me all the time. I ought to return the favor, no?"

"Hardly a valid argument from a thief," Shinichi said dryly, pulling himself together enough to present a calm front that he didn't feel. HE glanced around the library, suddenly feeling very awkward. He almost offered the thief tea before realizing what a ridiculous thing that was to be thinking about with a criminal in his house. What he should really be doing was calling the police.

He didn't move.

"Do you hate me?"

"What? No! I—I mean, of course not," Shinichi stammered, caught off guard by the question. "Why would you think that?"

KID tilted his head to one side bemused. "You've been avoiding me."

Shinichi opened his mouth then closed it again. It was true. "I… I just…"

"Are you angry then? About last time."

"I…" He felt his face grow hot. He desperately did not want to let KID know that he still had blurred if pleasant dreams about that night they'd spent together. And yet he also didn't want the thief to leave thinking Shinichi hated him. He really didn't.

"I don't hate you," he said finally. "But…"

KID flinched at that one little word. It was a tiny, all but imperceptible reaction that Shinichi would never have noticed if he hadn't been so focused on the thief, but it spoke volumes coming from the ever-composed master of the Poker Face. That knowledge left Shinichi at a loss for words—that that he'd really known what he wanted to say anyway. His mind spun in a dizzying storm of conflicting thoughts.

A thief was standing right in front of him in his house. He should be upset. He should be calling the police. But…he didn't want the thief to go.

He wanted—needed—answers, but, at the same time, he didn't want to know. But that was just stupid. As a detective, he should know better. Nothing was more important than the truth. Even an unpleasant truth was preferable to a lie because building on a lie was akin to building on quicksand.

"If you really want to, we can pretend it never happened," KID offered, voice quiet and face devoid of its usual mirth. Was that sadness in his gaze? "Is that what you want?"

"No," Shinichi blurted out before he could stop himself. "That's not what I—I mean, I just… What do you want from me?" he demanded finally, frustrated and confused.

Indigo eyes caught his and held.

"A chance," the thief said simply.

Shinichi's breath caught in his throat. He felt like he should respond, but he wasn't sure what to say. Did KID really mean what he'd said the way it sounded? Did Shinichi even want him to mean it?

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't deny that his heart had skipped a beat at KID's words. And Shinichi almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. They were both crazy. They had to be. Why else would a thief pursue a detective? And why else would a detective be pleased to receive such attentions?

Shinichi should save them both from the disaster they were obviously headed for by telling the thief to leave. Then they could both forget any of this had ever happened and go back to status quo.

Yet he only stood there as KID drew closer and closer.

"Would you mind if I kiss you?"

Shinichi blushed. He opened his mouth then shut it, uncertain.

"I don't know," he whispered eventually, helpless in the face of the conflicting thoughts bouncing around in his head.

KID leaned in until his lips were hovering a mere hair's width from Shinichi's, making the detective's breath hitch in his throat and his heart rate pick up. "Then perhaps we should find out."

The kiss began slowly, a soft, experimental meeting of lips that sent tingles of electricity through both of them. Surprised by his own reaction, Shinichi gasped softly, and the thief took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

It became clear to both of them very quickly that Shinichi didn't mind kissing KID at all. Quite the contrary.

When they finally parted, Shinichi was panting softly, face flushed pink. Unable to resist, Kaito leaned in and kissed him again.

Shinichi moaned into the kiss, pressing himself closer to KID's warmth. And when he wound up sprawled on his own library's large writing desk with the thief leaning over him, he found himself surrendering with barely a thought to protest.

Rather, he found himself eagerly kissing KID back as the thief pressed slick fingers into him.

This time there was no alcohol clouding his thoughts. He could feel every touch.

And it thrilled him. It shouldn't have. He knew it shouldn't have. Kept telling himself that. But it did.

And as KID slowly thrust into him, stretching him—filling him, all he could think was how right it felt. The mild pain and discomfort of the penetration did nothing to detract from the pleasure thrumming along his nerves. If anything, they heightened it, making the moment all that much more real. And he shifted his hips without conscious thought, searching for just the right angle to allow the thief in even deeper.

The next day he woke to find himself in bed with a red rose lying on his nightstand.

The next time they meet, it's Shinichi who slides his arms around KID's neck and pulls him into a kiss.

-0-

Their relationship doesn't feel real. Could you even call it a relationship? Shinichi really isn't sure.

They only ever see each other at heists. Even then, it isn't as though Shinichi can make it to every heist, though he tries his best.

Nakamori and his task force are as brusque as ever, but they have learned to listen when Shinichi gives them advice. And Shinichi does so because he knows that KID looks forward to the challenge. Shinichi enjoys it too, putting his mind to figuring out what exactly the infamous magician thief has up his sleeve today with which to wow his audience.

The better he gets to know the thief (but does he really know anything?), the more thrilling the game they play becomes.

And at the end of the evening, with his heart still racing with adrenaline, he would step into a pair of welcoming arms as Nakamori and his task force chase dummies through empty halls and out into the night. And an eager mouth would find his, and his clothes would disappear as hands roam every inch of his body. Not long after he would be clinging to KID's shoulders as the thief moves inside him, and he would pull the thief closer and stifle his moans against KID's lips—whispering for him not to stop.

Shinichi knows he is being reckless, maybe even stupid. There are a million and one reasons that this relationship is a bad idea.

He doesn't even know KID's real name. In truth, he hasn't asked. He wants to know, yes, but he also knows that he isn't ready to know. Not yet.

But he loves the way KID kisses him—like it's in the fire of their kisses that they'll find answers. Together. And he loves the way KID holds him—like he matters. Like he's important. Like KID never wants to let him go. And he likes the way KID feels inside him, demanding yet gentle, merciless yet loving.

He feels safe and secure when they're together in a way he never does anywhere else.

He knows it makes no sense.

What did he know—really know—about KID?

He knows KID is a natural performer with a penchant for mischief who isn't above laughing at himself from time to time. He knows KID cares about justice even if he chooses to pursue it in his own way. He knows KID has a sweet tooth, is fluent in three languages, loves stories and stargazing, and is every bit as well-read as Shinichi is if not necessarily in the same genres.

It isn't enough.

Shinichi wishes (almost desperately at times) that they had more time. That they could just sit down and have dinner and talk. He wants to learn more about who the man is in the daylight. To be able to share his burdens and his joys. To tell him that…

But maybe it's just wishful thinking. Maybe he is deceiving himself when he thinks that he sees the same longing in the thief's eyes. Maybe the thief is just having fun.

Except maybe, just maybe, he isn't.

-0-

In rare moments Kaito wonders if maybe he should slow down—stop. If maybe this isn't exactly the right way to be doing things—if things aren't just moving too fast but spinning out of control. It certainly isn't how he'd envisioned beginning their relationship. But every time it comes, the thought vanishes as soon as he has Shinichi pinned and panting for more.

He just couldn't seem to control himself. Or maybe it's just that he isn't really trying.

He wishes Shinichi knew his name. More than once, he has almost told him. But the words never pass his lips.

It isn't that he doesn't trust Shinichi, but the need for caution that he has lived with since the day he'd first donned his father's mantle is not something that he can ignore so easily even for his Tantei-kun.

Besides, he can tell that Shinichi is harboring some guilt over their meetings. How much worse would that guilt get if he knew KID's identity and thus ended up actively concealing information from the police? He was pretty sure Shinichi wouldn't tell on him, but did he have the right to burden his detective with even more secrets? You didn't have to hide what you didn't know.

Once he's found and destroyed Pandora, things would change. He could turn his full attention to being the best magician in the world like he's always wanted to be and hang up his cape and monocle for good (well, except for special occasions anyway). Then there would be no reason for secrecy or guilt.

But what if he never finds Pandora? Such a mission could take a lifetime. And maybe the gem is just a myth. If those possibilities came to pass, did he plan to let this state of affairs with Shinichi go on indefinitely?

No, he thinks immediately. He doesn't want that. His relationship with Aoko had died before it could start because of just that sort of thinking. If he continues to keep Shinichi at arm's length, Kaito would eventually lose him one way or another. And he wouldn't allow that.

No. He will have to tell Shinichi everything whether or not he finds Pandora. The real question is when and how.

He hopes he will know when the right time comes.

For now though, he would have to content himself with what little time he can steal with his lovely, blue-eyed angel.

And he has to admit that he finds a certain thrill in their clandestine rendezvous.

There is nothing more arousing than having Shinichi spread out before him, completely at his mercy, flushed and trembling with desire for his touch like he is now as the rest of the world spins on, oblivious.

This manor house has more than two dozen bedrooms, and they are in one of those now—one typically reserved for the most illustrious guests, which, Kaito thinks with more than a little smugness, makes it just the right room for him and his detective. They are definitely the two most famous people here. And as Kaito looks down at his beloved's slim, supple form spread out upon the satin sheets beneath him, all he can think about is Shinichi and how his lovely detective is his to touch, to taste, to hold. His.

Kaito couldn't resist. He leaned down and captured Shinichi's soft lips, and the kiss was neither soft nor chaste. It was hot and demanding and full of unspoken words and the promise of fire. And the fact that Kaito had just taken a diamond ring worth a fortune right out from under the noses of everyone at this grand old estate, though pleasing, was nothing compared to the thrill of the knowledge that he was about to take his Tantei-kun right there in the heart of the mansion while everyone from the mansion's staff, owner, and guests to the police are stumbling around outside in a futile search for yours truly.

Just the thought of it was making Kaito even harder than he already was.

In the distance, he could still hear the shouting of the task force, but they might as well have been in another world.

Here in his world, there was only himself and his dear detective, whose lips taste of coffee and whose skin tastes of fire and honey.

Slick fingers crooked and pressed, and Shinichi's hips bucked as a gasp escaped his lips. Kaito's arousal throbbed in response, eager to bury itself in that tight heat and fill Shinichi with his essence.

He muffled a half groan, half growl against the side of Shinichi's neck as he hastily pressed a third finger into the detective arching under him.

"KID," Shinichi whimpered, fingers tangling in the thief's wild hair as his inner muscles convulsed in an almost desperate need to draw Kaito in deeper.

What little was left of Kaito's self control snapped like a cut bowstring.

He kept enough of a presence of mind to grab the lube, squeezing a generous amount of it onto his palm before tossing it aside. It was cool against his heated skin, but he barely noticed. His focus was entirely on Shinichi and the way the detective opened up beneath him.

Shinichi moaned as KID's cock pressed into him where the thief's fingers had just been. He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation as his thief slid fully into him.

For a moment, they simply lay there together, basking in the closeness. Then Kaito gripped the detective's narrow hips and began to thrust, hard and deep. It was fast and rough and Shinichi loved every moment of it. His cries as he was filled again and again by his lover's shaft only spurred the thief to pick up his pace. In turn the detective's cries grew louder in appreciation.

The hard, hot rhythm caught them up and swept away their thoughts until all that was left was the beat.

Afterward, they spent several minutes curled up together, simply relishing in each other's presence as the world outside their own turned, ponderous and majestic. The silence beyond their walls told them that the police had gone, and, soon, it would be their turn to go. But they lingered.

Just a few more minutes, they thought as the silence drew on and all the world sank deeper into slumber. Just a few more minutes. They wouldn't ask for more than that. Not tonight. No matter how much they might want otherwise.

It was Kaito who eventually moved first. Sitting up, he spent another long moment just gazing down at the detective curled up beside him.

He wanted nothing more than to be able to stay there—to be able to just hold Shinichi all night and watch him wake up in the morning. He wished they could watch the sunrise together.

He wished he could walk Shinichi to his classes in the morning and pick him up for lunch every day (they're attending the same university after all. It would be so easy), and he wished they could go to movies and concerts, visit museums and galleries and festivals and simply do all those things both great and small that are their lives together—to just be.

He wanted it so badly at times that it hurt.

But he knew that they couldn't. There were still too many things they still had to do, too many secrets and too many potential problems and questions that neither of them were ready yet to answer.

But he promised himself that the right time would come. And he renewed that promise every time those brilliant, sapphire eyes met his.

Reaching out, he touched Shinichi lightly on the shoulder. Understanding the silent message that their time was up for tonight, Shinichi let his breath out in a quiet sigh and let KID help him up. His legs were still a little wobbly, but they steady by the time the two of them finished dressing and cleaning up all evidence of their activities.

Kaito inspected the estate grounds beyond the window with a pair of binoculars just to be safe before he opened it. But then he turned back. Crossing the distance between himself and Shinichi in a few quick strides, he pulled the smaller boy into a quick but heartfelt embrace before dropping a kiss on his lips and a whisper in his ears.

Then the thief was gone.

Shinichi knew it was time that he got going too, but he found himself moving to the window first. He looked up at the starry sky, the thief's last words echoing in his ears.

"I love you."

A genuine smile spread across his face as he felt his stomach flutter with something warm and light.

It wasn't just the words that had struck him though but the tone in which they had been uttered: raw and sincere and soft with a yearning that Shinichi too knew all too well.

It was a confession and a promise to and for the future, and the truth of it had burned bright in those indigo eyes that Shinichi had come to love.

Shinichi had been too shocked to reply this time, but next time he saw the thief, there were three little words he knew he needed to say.


-End-